At the Movies

This winter, with money being tight (though we sprang for a cinema film tonight--more on that later), Kate and I have watched lots of movies at home. Partly due to her sister Cori's inspired Christmas gift of a Netflix membership (which we've extended), and partly due to getting to know our local Blockbuster.

One of the things I really enjoy about Kate: she despises chick flicks as much as I do. Corny, tearjerking, they-were-just-meant-for-each-other sapfests are a drain on my life force, and apparently on Kate's too. Our love of Kill Bill and similar blood-themed oeuvres is on record and known to anyone who talks to us. So we've seen lots of pulpy, darkly comic, bullet-ridden flicks since I came home from the dusty frozen northwest (and Alaska is dusty. On a windy fall day you can see the dust clouds rising above the mountains. The air is tinged brown). Eva doesn't seem to mind them much either, though in general, she doesn't like noise. So we keep the volume down when things get loud, but she definitely pays attention for at least part of the film.

One of this week's Blockbusters was Slap Shot, the 1977 Paul Newman masterpiece about a minor league hockey team, the Chiefs, based in western Pennsylvania. I'd read so many things about the Hanson brothers that I knew someday I'd have to see it. I was finally motivated to pick it by reading a blurb in the news somewhere that the present-day Chiefs, the real Pennsylvania minor-league hockey team on which the film was based, have been sold and are moving. The film depicts their final (fictitious, this being 33 years ago) season, as the iron indsutry was in decline in that part of the world, and the city steel mill was closing, dooming the local economy.

Paul Newman is the player/coach, an old-timer who's not so hot on the bench either. He learns that the team is going to fold and starts cooking up ideas to save it--i.e., convince the owner to sell it.

Enter the Hanson brothers--hired on because they're three wild thugs who assault all opponents on the ice. And, presto! The Chiefs start winning, start energizing crowds, and the team rallies around their three new thick-as-bricks emotional leaders.

The film is a wistful comedy, with a realistic and not lovey-dovey ending, which makes it even more enjoyable. And the characters are capable of some skullduggery, not all of it necessarily good-natured. I haven't seen many Newman films--the Sting (sort of, though the video tape was all warped and messed up), Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid, and the Life & Times of Judge Roy Bean. Newman's at his best when he plays an impish hero. His blue eyes twinkle with mischief or maybe worse, and he winds up acting nobly in spite of the majority of his instincts.

One of the things which makes Cassidy & Sundance such a legendary film is the chemistry between Newman and Redford. Just like Newman, I need to get to know Redford's films much better. Last fall in Alaska I happened to see Three Days of the Condor, and was pretty much awestruck at how he could hold a screen. From what I've seen of his characters, they tend to be more serious than comic. But there's comedy in him, particularly in how he fences verbally with Cassidy, or whoever else he's on-screen with.

Newman was paired with Tom Cruise in the Color of Money, and that was bad casting. Cruise isn't much of an actor. He's intense, and back when he was dancing to Bob Seger in his underwear he was considered hot, but he's not much for nuance or comedy. (Talentless actors usually wind up in action flicks, if they survive at all. It's no mystery Tom's now putting out nothing but action flicks where all he has to do is show intensity.) A far better pairing dramatically for Newman, to bring a script alive, to make scenes sparkle with humor? Brad Pitt.

Pitt, like Newman, is an actor with some depth but whose true talent is comedy. In a role like the stoner in True Romance, you might almost think he didn't need to act at all--the director just told him to toke up, gave him one or two lines to remember, and planted him on a couch. He apparently created his own accent for Snatch. The accent wasn't nearly as weird the second time around, and of course his mother dies during the film, but otherwise, Brad's gypsy character was the same bouncy, smarter-than-he-looks-but-not-by-much throughout. Even in Ocean's Eleven, where Brad's character is much more sophisticated, he has an it's-only-life attitude which gives the movie its spring.

It's just too damn bad he wasn't teamed up with Newman at some point for a movie about gambling. He's pretty much the same age as the lout Cruise. It should've happened. Maybe the chemistry wouldn't have been as good as it was between Newman and Redford, since Redford's greater seriousness was probably a better counterpoint to the devilish Newman--but I think the movie world should've had the chance to find out.

Back to Newman. My favorite scene in Slap Shot, I can't describe in detail because this is a family-friendly blog. But Reggie Dunlop, Newman's player-coach character, has an edge over the opponents' goalie, Hanrahan. In the game's critical last moments, a tie late in the third period, Reggie unleashes a series of taunts that drive Hanrahan berserk and cause him to desert the goal--allowing the game-winning score--and attack Reggie. Newman's joyful delivery of the taunts--especially the first--is exquisite.

So, tonight, for something completely different: a computer-animated flick about monsters. Specifically, dragons: How to Train your Dragon. What drew me to this one was the distinctly catlike look and demeanor of the main dragon, this not-so-big black thing with green feline eyes. Since I'm buds with my own cat Jasper, I figured I should see this one. So we decided to splurge on tickets and even tried to bring Eva along.

A note on that. The volume at times plainly bothered her, so we brought her out of the cinema during the biggest action sequences. And she got tired and ornery, so it's now clear: if we go see any more movies, we need a babysitter. Little infant Eva made it through Fantastic Mr. Fox last fall, but now, no way. She's much too young to engage in a film, and old enough to cause a disturbance. (Though this didn't stop her from spitting happily all over me, grabbing my 3D glasses and trying to suck on them when I brought her out at one point.) So, no more babies in theaters.

The film, being for kids (and really for kids--not over-the-kids'-heads-and-really-for-adult-fans like Fox was), had a very warmhearted, everyone-is-happy ending. But that didn't spoil the plot. The film's gimmick--making the dragons seem like genuine, idiosyncratic, responsive living beings--worked. Just like Finding Nemo was mostly about the variety and vivdness of the marine world, and Wag the Dog was about the creative principle in action, this movie was about dragons as living, sensitive beings. The plot in each of those is kind of secondary. In this case, Ye Standarde Olde Redemption Plotte fit nicely, the visuals (if you see this flick, see it in 3D!) were spectacular, and the dragons were even more fun than I'd been expecting.

So, the Sutherland family's review (Kate and I discussed it on the way home): two thumbs up, a third thumb soaking wet from saliva.